Blood of the Covenant Water of the Womb
by God-King-Moth
Summary: :WARNINGS INSIDE: Ichigo clings to his precious people with a ferocity that would be surprising, if you didn't know him. A story of transitioning, dysphoria, and fighting for yourself. :T for content. Will change to M if requested. Starting as oneshot, may continue. Unbeta'd, please forgive any errors. OOC and canon storyline errors to be expected!:
1. Blood

:Warnings! Description of body mutilation and gore, self-harm mention, in-depth talk about menstruation (Honestly, get over it though, half the world suffers through it) severe dysphoria, panic attacks and general gender weirdness, transphobic slurs and fighting.:

:I wish I owned Bleach. Biggest LBGQAT manga in the world? yes, it would be.:  
...0...0...

He wakes with the edge of a scream on his lips, catching on the skin like a sharp blade before he chokes it off, eyes wide and unblinking as he twitches.

The pain is beyond anything he's ever felt and he vaguely wonders if he's going to vomit, his abdomen practically convulsing internally with the way his gut spasms and clenches and cramps. It's too low to be his stomach and he realises it's his /uterus/, horrible, abomination that it is inside of him.

The pain peaks and his vision blackens at the edges; and suddenly it pushes further and there's a disgusting, wet sound and blood everywhere.

His fingers curl and his tunnel vision hooks on the empty expanse of his torso, bone and flesh splattered on the bed around him, up the nearby wall and on the floor. His spine is jagged and he can see the inside of his back, muscle and flesh peeled and wet and fuck, it smells awful, less savoury things than blood and meat soaking into the sheets. He can see some of his ribs, and he wonders how this would look to someone else. Like a hollow ripped out his guts, probably. It feels like one did, anyway.

He can't really make sense of the organs, or lack thereof, and he can't feel his legs or anything below his shoulders, really.

He's pretty sure his uterus just exploded.

He's pretty sure he should be feeling something other than relieved it's gone.

He actually wakes up this time, sweating and shivering and vaguely aware of the gross slide of blood out of him, face pinching into a look of disgust as he processes the dream and the reality, grateful for the 'patented female diapers™' that are his salvation and source of shame all at once. At least he won't be ruining his bedsheets with blood.

God he hates this.

The dysphoria hits him then, crippling in its intensity and he curls up on his side, wishing his uterus really would explode, and take his tits and even his life with it. His skin crawls and he fights down vomit as his uterus cramps and his pelvis shifts to subconsciously push more blood out. He shudders at the emasculating feeling, tears catching in the corners of his eyes.

The next morning is... Difficult, with Karin quietly breaking off a few squares of chocolate from their bar and wordlessly handing them to him, and Yuzu heats up a rice bag for him when she does hers as well. It's difficult to thank them, because he wishes it wasn't happening, but they understand that he's grateful.

All three of them curl up on the couch with blankets and painkillers and shitty movies, and even the ever-gleeful Isshin seems to tone himself down for the three suffering children who've synced in their cycles.

Karin is fine tomorrow, flow lighter than Yuzu's or his, and cramps never lasting more than the first day, or the one before the bleeding starts. Yuzu is the least lucky out of all of them, but she's a tank about it, popping painkillers after the lazy day they all have (it's practically tradition) and soldiering through like a champion, hit with the occasional cramp the entire five days of her cycle, but always mild-mannered and calm about it.

Ichigo always takes it the hardest.

Yuzu and Karin sometimes take turns helping him through the odd panic attack when he can feel the blood leaking out (it's wrong, it's like a wound that won't heal) and Chad becomes his personal guard at school, a solid, steady presence like he always has been. Tatsuki always makes sure to carry extra pads for him in case he's forgotten them at home or is startled by unexpected heavy flow, and he wishes he could use a goddamn tampon to stop the slick-slide feeling, but he can barely wash down there let alone shove something up it.

He blanches at the thought.

Not everyone knows, the open secret that it is held close but carefully, and Tatsuki never tells him to man up during the hellish week like she does to the others when they're being what she perceives as wussy, and he appreciates it so much.

When he needs the safety, Chad walks him to the bathrooms and stands just outside the door as he changes with shaky hands and bile in his throat, unable to avoid looking at the blood even as he wraps the stupid diaper thing in toilet paper and disposes of it in the bin. It's not a 'specifically for hygiene products one' but there's no way in hell he's ever going into a girls toilet. Not ever.

Sometimes he needs to wash his hands for ten minutes to calm down, cold water and scrubbing til his skin is red, and Chad comes in and let's Ichigo just lean on him, and they've never had to speak to hold conversations.

There have been jokes and rumors and barbed comments about exactly what Ichigo and Chad get up to in their extended bathroom trips but it doesn't ruffle either boy. They're not lovers, never will be, but the bond they've forged is closer to platonic soul mates than best friends.

In primary school people knew. Ichigo was just a weak little girl and Tatsuki would wipe the floor with him and then cast threatening glares to people who'd mutter about the silly kid who thought she wasn't a she.

It still hurt. One boy came and pushed him off the swings and kicked him in the thigh and called him awful, awful things and he cried until the teachers noticed and broke it up. Masaki was called and there was a long, long discussion where Ichigo had to wait outside the office, and in the end his wonderful, amazing mother simply scooped him up, kissed his forehead and called him 'her brave little boy'. The validation was worth everything.

Not that Masaki had ever not been the epitome of understanding.

He was small when he realized he wasn't a her, or his fathers 'darling baby giiiirl!' Or any iteration of female.

At five and a half he'd looked up at his mother and said, 'do I always have to be a girl?' And she had looked down at him and said 'of course not. Do you want to be a boy?' And he'd nodded, and she'd spoken with Isshin, and that was that.

When she'd told him he would have to be a big boy, and be strong and brave and take care of his little sisters he'd swelled with pride and she'd smiled.

When she died his world crashed around him.

The next person to misgender him got a punch to their face.

The gangs that followed him around due to his hair ridiculed him if they knew of his 'special status' (he called bullshit. He was just another boy out of 50% of the world's population) and he laid them straight; with judicious application of force and pain. It was easy, simple, and the strain of his binder only helped solidify the fact in his mind that he would always, always be fighting to be heard and seen as the correct gender.

Turning thirteen and coming into his 'chest' (small, thankfully, if he'd had anything like Orihime's he would have clawed them off in a fit of panic) his father sat him down, brought out a box, and they talked about safe binding for hours before Isshin had handed over the two pieces of clothing (life savers, is what they were.) They talked about shortness of breath, and compression, and how it could damage him if he wasn't careful so he was only allowed to wear them for twelve hours a day, and not at all on the weekends unless he was going out. It helped that Isshin knew he was going to cut them off as soon as he safely could, or his father would have insisted on only wearing it every second day. It was still a slight debate between them.

Ichigo learnt how to arrange himself properly inside the restricting material, how to not get his arms stuck (that had been awkward, God bless Tatsuki and her hysterical laughter at the state she found him in during that sleep-over, arms up and tangled and hooked in the unforgiving cloth) and now Ichigo could go around the house 'shirtless' and people started automatically assuming he was male at first sight.

The first time someone didn't glance questioningly or need to be told, they just said 'hi, Ichigo right? You're that guy-' He had nearly broken down from glee. Such a small thing, but it felt like the world.

The scowl that had become his automatic expression helped with the masculine look, according to a snickering Tatsuki's analysis. ("You look like a grumpy old man, Ichigo-") And things were getting easier.

Once every month life was very, very hard, but he wasn't so prone to freezing up, or hunching over himself and digging scratches along his breasts in the shower in fits of dysphoria.

There was still a deep feeling of being incorrect, often, but it faded when he wore his binder, and when he fought, or trained, or spoke to Tatsuki and Chad or his family.

When Karin sat back in their chair at dinner one day and said "Oi, goat-face, Yuzu, Ichigo." And they'd all fixed them with their attention- "I'm agender." Ichigo nodded, Yuzu specified their pronouns and Karin confirmed, and Isshin wept with pride and yelled at the poster of their mother on the wall that he was 'so proud of our nonbinary children, Masakiiii~!' Until Ichigo had kicked him in the head and sent him flying.

He put a hand on Karin's shoulder, said he had some books about gender if they ever needed them, and then gave them a hug and said he'd help them beat the tar out of anyone who misgendered them. Yuzu had smiled at them both, Karin had told him they didn't need his help but they'd tell him all about how they beat anyone who did so up, and that was that.

It was easy.

He always wore baggy shirts to bed, and he had a good collection of boxers and boys underwear, because even though he could have worn panties the smallest things, like men's socks and shoes and undies, made all the difference to his dysphoria. Sometimes they had to refit men's pants to the waist and hips he inherited from his mother (which makes it hard to hate them, because anything that was his mother's should be cherished) but he inherited Isshin's broad shoulders as well and that fills him out. He'll always be lean and slim for a boy, muscle mass sleek like a swimmer or runner, never packing it on, but it was enough. There were plenty of effeminate boys in the world, and plenty of them weren't trans like he was.

It was getting easier to like himself when he looked in the mirror.

At fifteen he'd adjusted to wearing binders so well that the shortness of breath was barely a hindrance while fighting, the tightness even helping absorb blows to the sternum occasionally.

The ghosts never misgendered him. People didn't either, now, unless they were assholes and knew he was trans.

He had a routine. Get home from school, beat the hell out of goat-face when he tried to surprise attack him, spend some time with Yuzu helping in the kitchen if she needed it, check on Karin and sometimes help them with their schoolwork before heading upstairs, shedding his binder and spending a few minutes gently and clinically rubbing blood back into the... Unwanted chest protrusions.

He was getting creative with not calling them 'breasts'.

He'd pull his shirt back on and settle in to do his homework, sometimes playing music if he felt like it.

The girl stepping through his wall was in no way expected.

...0...0...

:Hey,guys! Thanks for reading, I guess. Leave a review if you'd like!:  
:Honestly though, I had the dream at the top, and it turns out that if you write about your personal heroes and favourite characters suffering through what you suffer, it makes for decent stories? Surprise.:


	2. Friendship

:Ya'll, I'm writing this shit on my phone so the formatting and length is all abysmal I'm so sorry. Also I'm like, genuine trash and a total garden implement for ShiroIchi so there miGht be soME HINTS- but all around there won't be any non-canon pairings, you are welcome. I wont subject you to my incredible gayness. Also this is completely unedited so I'm... so sorry *sweats* so sorry... soRRy...:

...0...0...

Ichigo's first response is to ask who the fuck she thought she was.

After he was promptly ignored he decided 'fuck this' and kicked her.

The resulting difficulties were well worth it, even her terrible (truly, truly horrific) art.

Of course, then the girl referred to him as female and Ichigo barely stopped himself from curling into a tiny, tiny, tiny ball and hiding from her large grey eyes.

"I'm not a girl." He growls out instead, hunching forward to let his baggy shirt hide his breasts- how did he forget he wasn't wearing his binder?

She blinks, obviously confused. "I don't understand."

"I'm. Not. A. Girl. I was born with a female body. But I'm a boy."

He tries not to be angry, because she doesn't seem disgusted, just confused, and he wonders if the place where shinigami come from really had no idea what transgender even meant.

She accepts it, still confused, and when she turns around he expertly slips his binder on, fast and effortless from the ease of long practice.

She stumbles over the pronouns but she seems to find it easier when he's obviously more masculine, no breasts to be seen, just baggy clothes and strong arms and a scowl.

Hearing his siblings call for him in fear makes him furious, a level of desperate need to protect (and destroy, smite anyone who ever even though of touching his precious people-) them surging in his chest, up his throat- he feels like he's going to vomit but it comes out a strangled cry- "YUZU, KARIN-" and the bonds the shinigami encased him in shatter violently.

He's out there in seconds.

"You're a very strange boy, Ichigo Kurosaki." Rukia says solemnly, staring up at him with a determined expression and no fear in her eyes, even as she shoves the sword into Ichigo's chest.

He doesn't hear her scream until it's too late, and he tries to block the power rushing into him, tries to stop the vacuum he seems to have become, but he can't.

The hollow dies quickly.

The next day is an... Experience, if it could be called that.

He quietly wonders exactly how often shinigami are updated on the world of the living, because this...

She doesn't even know how to drink from a juice box.

Urahara makes him mildly uncomfortable, if he's being honest with himself. He feels like the shopkeeper knows much more than he says he does.

He both hates and pities Kon all at once. When the mod soul complains that he 'doesn't have a dick, how can he get the ladies' Ichigo shoves him back into the lion plushy, steps on him, and tears him a new one with Rukia looking on in slight awe at the ferocity of his words.

Kon is... Markedly /less/ of a pervert after that, but he's worried the mod soul is just looking at Ichigo's body instead of harassing girls on the street.

Well, better him than them.

Despite Rukia's willingness to hit him, and her violent tendencies (and her terrible art) she's not a half-bad teacher, even as she plays on his protective instincts. She learns quickly not to bother him when he's bleeding- learns the routine he and his siblings have in place, steps back if he panics. He's grateful she seems to be ok with his gender status, even though it's probably hard for her to really understand.

Ichigo even finds himself appreciating her company-(he doesn't appreciate her camping out in his closet, or how easily his father and sisters accept it.)

He really hopes this shinigami stuff doesn't become a permanent thing.

It inevitably becomes a permanent thing.

He doesn't even see Byakuya move, just feels pain pain pain, and vaguely hears the shinigami ridicule him. Everything is going fuzzy, and Rukia vanishes, and he can hear footsteps on the pavement.

He passes out.

Waking up in Urahara's shop, shirtless and without a binder, instead covered in bandages and with Tessai being incredibly creepy directly on top of him, is not an enjoyable experience. Throwing Tessai across the room is, even as Ichigo looks around for his binder desperately.

It's Urahara who calms him down, surprisingly, telling him it's ok and they don't care. The man just sits there, not too close and not too far, and reassures him until Ichigo can breathe again.

He hates that everyone seems to die for him. Rukia, willing to be executed to try and spare him. His mother.

God, his mother.

The wound is forever open and raw in his chest whenever he thinks of Masaki.

So when Hat and Clogs offers him a way to save Rukia, regain the power to protect people, he hardly even questions it.

Ururu is a tiny demon, and as brash and loud as Jinta is, it's the little girl he's been traumatized by.

The shattered shaft is just a pit of fear and nervousness, and he feels like he's drowning in his own panic, breathing shallow and fast.

When his chain literally eats itself he's absolutely terrified he's going to turn into a hollow and fail everybody, never see Yuzu or Karin again- and then he's pulling his sword into his hand and standing in the training ground again.

He forgets all about the mask in seconds, staring at the blade in his hand. It's unwieldly but also feels oddly at home in his grip, and he adjusts his fingers on the handle, a strange warmth pulsing up his arm.

Zangetsu is a good name, he thought, when he finally heard it, Urahara actively trying to murder him. It feels as right on his lips as the blade does in his hands, and he's very quickly adapted a berserker style all his own while keeping the basics of sword fighting.

When he changes it into his shikai it feels even more correct, the stupidly over-sized trench knife just an extension of himself.

He revels in knocking that stupid ugly hat from Kisuke's stupid ugly head. (He's a little mad.)

The sword spirit, he finds, is a part of his soul given direction of its own, and he's never quite had someone who understood so thoroughly all of Ichigo's hopes and dreams and fears. It's a little scary, but also comforting, like one of Yuzu's hugs- a constant companion who will never judge or embarrass him or make him uncomfortable.

So, of course, he calls the spirit old man, because that's how he shows respect and affection.

Obviously.  
(The little detail that part of his soul turned into something obviously masculine, with facial hair and _everything_ is in no way related to his easy acceptance of the being renting space in his head.)

He's both stunned and grateful that his friends want to help (will help, they're stubborn and won't let him say no) and running through the gate Urahara summons, Yoruichi (the talking goddamn cat, he's seen everything now-) on their heels, is strangely fulfilling. He's gathered precious people, and his precious people are strong and supportive, even if he doesn't know Orihime as well as he'd like to and Uryuu is a stuck up prick 102% of the time. (He also has a dry sense of humor that Ichigo appreciates.)

So maybe Ichigo isn't the most easy going of people, but Ganju is annoying and totally raring for a fight anyway.

Meeting him again with Kukaku is both aggravating and amusing, as is learning how to help power the giant damn hamster ball they're going to smash into Seireitei with like something from an American comic book.

Fighting through shinigami isn't quite as difficult as he thought it would be. They all talk too much- it's more threats and dialogue than actual fighting.

Renji is a tough fight, and Ichigo probably revels in thrashing him more than he should, as a good person, but hey, Renji was a total dick.

A good chunk of that anger and resentment vanishes when Renji asks him to save Rukia.

When the mask saves him he's not afraid. He stares at it, pushing its similarities to a hollow aside, because damn it, something inside of him made it to protect him and he's grateful. It feels safe in his hands, and he has the urge to slip it back under his clothes and let it sit against his torso, but Hanatarou grabs it and throws it in the water. Ichigo protests and glares, but there's nothing he can do about it. He hopes whatever made the mask (he knows it wasn't old man Zangetsu) felt his gratitude and appreciation.

Kenpachi is a fucking monster, he thinks much later, exhausted and bleeding. He passes out to the pink haired girl- Yachiru? Thanking him for fighting 'Kenny'.

He wakes with Yoruichi, and briefly wonders how the cat managed to save him before there's a puff of smoke and he's having 'naked lady' singed into his eyeballs.

He decides he's probably gay.

When he sits up and finds the mask in his clothes again Yoruichi goes very serious and tells him to give it to her. Ichigo gives her the stink eye and protectively pushes it back into his clothing like a hidden shield. He's not used to being protected; and it's a nice feeling. He's not throwing that away.

Byakuya wrecks him. It's not really surprising. Yoruichi steps in again, and this is definitely the first he's heard of three day training for bankai.

...0...0...

:So I am a trash child and already have like, parts of third and fourth chapter floating around in the mess that is my phone's notes, but idk when I'll update it again so... If anyone cares about this story, be prepared to wait lmao.:

:Would also like to mention, just to get it out of the way, that if I get any people coming up and saying 'omg you're fetiShiZIng TRANS PPL' or 'Why would you do that to Ichigo he's OBVIOUSLY a cis male' you can all suck this proverbial nonexistent dick because I am completely nonbinary and will not put up with your bullshit:


	3. Battle

:Please remember I'm not rewatching every episode to make sure I don't mess up, this is the result of my terrible memory and early episodes watched like, a full year ago. There will probably be fuck-ups and inconsistencies.:

...0...0...

Ichigo really, really disliked Byakuya Kuchiki. It wasn't even all that personal, just a deep, general disgust for how he treated Rukia. What kind of brother wouldn't die to protect their younger sibling? Everything about the elder Kuchiki sent shivers up his spine and put him on edge. What had happened to that man to cause him not to love his sister? To willingly hand her over to be executed?

He couldn't imagine anything that would ever cause him to abandon Yuzu or Karin.

Training for bankai was possibly the longest, most drawn out spar (against his own soul, which is a very strange concept. Shouldn't he have perfect harmony with something that's a part of him? There shouldn't be any need to fight) he'd ever had, and when Renji had arrived and told them the execution date had shifted, it only spurred him to try harder. Yoruichi (and his mind still had trouble connecting masculine-voiced cat and oh god tits in face, why, god, why) had to drag him away to rest, he was so intent on achieving his goal.

Which was, of course, to gain the power to fucking eradicate anyone who hurt his precious people.

Surprising the shit out of everyone when he arrived at the Sokyoku and throwing Rukia directly at Renji like a small angry bullet was incredibly amusing (and satisfying, he mused, as they both went sprawling comically) to watch.

Now he just had to beat Byakuya (and possibly everyone else) and hope Renji got Rukia out quickly.

Covered in bandages as he was, it was easy to put his binder on over the top (easy being relative- it was annoying as hell but successful) and then hide the binder with another layer of bandages.

Entering Bankai was like flexing unused muscles, new and difficult and an intense strain, jumping into a fight without a real warm up. The blade thrummed in his hands and he ignored Byakuya's derision- because any 'small and powerless' comments just made him want to laugh, because they sounded like veiled dick jokes, really. Byakuya's indignation and constant complaints (the composed man was practically whining, honestly) about his absolute blasphemy and desecration of Bankai was fucking hilarious.

Byakuya's over-inflated ego wasn't completely unfounded, unfortunately. Ichigo was losing, slowly, badly. The unused muscles were stalling and cramping up, draining him of energy, and not even the warm hum of his zanpakuto was easing them.

He wondered if he should have taken his chance and stabbed Byakuya through the throat when he could have.

When the mask pulls itself into existence and a protective kind of- feeling, strange and not unwelcome, but confusing, told him in no uncertain terms to shut up and sit back while 'they' beat Byakuya, he was briefly stunned.

Stunned enough to ignore the jibes they threw along with it. It felt like bluster, like passive-aggressive caring. Tsundere, even.

That thought made him snicker.

Someone wanted to fight for _him_. It was confusing. He always fought for everyone else- (with the exception of Chad, because they fought together) and he didn't know how to react.

He was very aware that killing Byakuya was a Bad Move™ (Rukia might cry, and he can't deal with girls crying unless it's Yuzu, honestly) and shoved whatever it was back (once it had worn Byakuya down a fair bit; he wasn't stupid. Any advantage he could take here, he would) to its protests, only murmuring a vague thank you- he'd had his rest, he was ready to fight again now- and at his opponents questions he promptly told Byakuya it didn't matter, and that it wouldn't happen again.

Besides, the influx of bloodlust and the enjoyment of fighting had leaked from the presence to him, and he was near chomping at the bit to fight again.

Aizen, Ichigo decided, laying on the ground and bleeding out, needed to have his spleen ripped out and shoved down his throat. He ignored the echoing voice agreeing wholeheartedly and Old man Zangetsu telling him off, with the edge of exhausted amusement only a teacher with overly exuberant students could manage.

Of all the people, he really didn't expect Byakuya to understand. (Stuck up prick that he is.)

Walking around soul society while he recovered, avoiding Kenpachi (the man was persistent) and occasionally running into other captains was interesting enough in and of itself- Chad had told him about Shunsui, and Rukia had gushed over Ukitake-taicho enough for him to believe that they were good people- though he knew good people would still kill other good people if they had to.

He decided he had respect for them.

He first noticed Byakuya was watching while walking with Rukia. He assumed it was misguided protective instinct (coming in a little late, there, Byakuya-) and brushed it off.

But then it started happening no matter who he was with.

Ichigo got tired of it quickly, peeled squad six's location from a drunk Renji, and strode off to confront the man and demand a goddamn answer.

"You remind me of Hisana."

Byakuya murrs, expressionless as always but there's a warmth to his eyes and the slightest hint of acceptance when he looks to the very baffled teenage boy.

"She also was born in the wrong body."

Ichigo's face rapidly becomes bone white and Byakuya hurries to add that he won't tell anyone, he understands and respects him, even if he is an upstart child, because he remembers how hard it was for Hisana.

He'd said he could only tell because he moved the same way Hisana did, and that it wasn't obvious.

Ichigo smiled, and asked about her, and Byakuya looked so surprised it was hard not to laugh.

He came away from the experience with respect for Byakuya, and deep respect for Hisana.

When Renji comes back and promptly splutters all over himself seeing Ichigo and his captain talking amiably and sipping tea, it's worth the panic the whole thing had instigated in Ichigo, if only briefly. Something about the way Byakuya spoke about Hisana made him feel sure that no matter what, he wouldn't tell anyone without Ichigo's permission.

Besides, Renji's face had been priceless. He wished he had a camera on him at the time.

When Ichigo gets home (finally, finally, god-) Isshin talks to him about hormone therapy, the pros and cons- and Ichigo decides the risk factors aren't quite worth it yet, and he's sufficiently masculine at this point. They talk about the possibility of him starting on hormones once he gets top surgery, and they agree that's probably a good idea.

It's a relief, in some ways, to know the options are all there. His father may be insane, and prone to violence in order to 'make sure his beloved son grows up big and strong!' But he's not stupid or unkind.

Ichigo is grateful.

Masaki had always been worried about the hormones, afraid things would go badly, that it wouldn't work the way Ichigo wanted it to. It was... Concerning, to her, and Ichigo can't help but feel guilty whenever he considers the HRT. He would never tell Isshin that, though.

Ichigo got used to not having to breathe.

He realized he didn't need to pretty much the first real fight he had as a shinigami, Rukia yelling at him in the background. There was no burn of the binder, without his physical body, because he didn't have to take deep breaths during fights, or even breathe at all.

It was a bit of a shock.

But, he did get used to it.

Going to soul society to save Rukia- he spent so long there, fighting so often, he forgot he'd ever had to breathe, that the binder had ever given him strain.

Returning to his body sparked a drawn-out panic attack as he took a breath and suddenly felt this crushing weight around his chest like a vice. It took Yuzu's calm words and dainty fingers petting through his hair to calm him down.

He was much more careful about it after that.

Yuzu and Ichigo get freckles during the summer. Ichigo goes for runs and cheers for Karin at their soccer games; not to mention fighting hollows at all times of day and bloody night.

Yuzu points out the sun streaks in his hair and smiles. "You have a sunrise, Ichi-nii!"

When he looks in the mirror next he examines the spiky mess and hums. She's right- he has red to copper highlights, and the tips are gold.

During winter it will go back to plain orange.

...0...0...

:God I am TirED. I only read over and edited once, so you know. Be gentle. I'll tell you now, the differences between Australian and USA spellcheck suck ass. I KNOW that word has an s, not a z. Fucking damn it. Also damn RIGHT Hisana was a transwoman. You can fight me on this, I'll enjoy it, I'm nasty like that.:  
:If ya'll want, I'm putting up the scene with Ichigo stuck in the binder on deviantart, so, there's that.:


End file.
